


Overkill

by Naemi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Animalistic Behavior, Barebacking, Biological Imperative, Kink, Knotting, Loss of Control, M/M, Prompt Fic, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 03:25:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naemi/pseuds/Naemi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Alpha has to do what an Alpha has to do. And with a Beta like Isaac, it's guaranteed to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overkill

**Author's Note:**

> [set post season 3a]

 

Those stupid scarfs probably were the first sign, which makes for quite a long period of . . . whatever exactly it is that's happening. Not to mention Scott wasn't even an Alpha by then. And yet, Isaac felt connected to him in a very special way, complete with seeking physical closeness that led to the dire need to impress. The scarfs, he thought, made him look sharp, and hopefully Scott would notice.

Now he cringes at the memory, and is appropriately grateful Scott never said a word. The Show Your Butt Shorts and Way Too Gay Shirts periods he went through aren't much better in retrospect, but at least he still keeps trying.

If only he knew why.

The desire for Scott's approval never faded, not even after Allison (and oh, Isaac crushed on her so hard), but it's okay. It's a wolf thing, probably. Pack business. Frankly, it doesn't matter what it is: Isaac likes it that way, and Scott seems quite content, too. They go running together a lot, always side by side, and sometimes they fake-fight or play around like puppies. As time progresses, they learn to know each other not only by scent, but even by sound of movement, which is kind of scary, “but so cool, dude.” (Stiles' words, spiced up with quite some jealousy.)

In short, Scott's and Isaac's wolves gradually get in sync with each other, and that is all that needs to be said about their pack dynamics.

Only that this isn't quite true. There's a lot more to it. Isaac senses it rather than he understands it. This inexplicable longing for he doesn't know what grows with every passing day, until it becomes a neon sign flashing behind his eyelids that he can't ignore any further.

And since Scott is his Alpha, he has to set it right. Fix him. Whatever.

Unfortunately, Scott also is so frustratingly . . . _Scott_ . . . sometimes that Isaac wants to smack his face. Over the course of a week, the Beta tries every signal—from assuming submissive postures to seeking physical closeness, wolf, human, or in-between—all to no avail. His Alpha keeps ignoring him.

When he can't bear it any longer, Isaac decides to screw the protocol. No more “accidentally” brushing against Scott whenever there's the slightest chance. (No more sexing up his look; he's such a failure anyway.) He's desperate. He _needs_.

Appearing focused on his reading assignment, he is stretched out on Scott's bed, wearing the tightest and most low-cut jeans Beacon Hills has ever seen (and how much more obviously, embarrassingly willing can he present himself, for fuck's sake?). Scott, busy with his own homework, doesn't even seem to remember his presence.

Isaac makes a soft, whining sound.

No reaction.

He whines again, transforming it into a low growl. Scott's head snaps up.

“'S up? You tired already?”

“You have no idea . . .” Isaac's lashes flutter. “Tell me, how can one person be so obtuse?”

“Uh, dude? What are you reading?”

Isaac snorts. “I'm talking about an Alpha not noticing his bitch is in heat,” he says, and the words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them, but it strikes him as the undeniable truth.

“What makes you think I couldn’t smell it a mile off?”

Isaac opens his mouth to give a snide reply, but not a sound escapes. He averts his eyes, heartbeat racing with sudden fear, cheeks burning with humiliation. Scott's scornful look feels like a slap to the face. It hurts, rips Isaac's heart right out of his chest; he cringes, whimpers, “I'm sorry.” His voice vibrates with repentance. “I didn't—”

Scott's growl cuts him off. It's low and threatening, and it resonates through Isaac, connecting to his most basic instinct. Eyes squeezed shut, he cranes his neck, exposing his throat.

Defeat shakes him when nothing happens

—and then Scott is beside him, nuzzling his nose against the side of his neck.

“I thought you'd turn elsewhere eventually,” he says hoarsely. “Allison, probably. I really thought . . .”

“ _You're_ my damned Alpha,” Isaac smirks. Teeth start to scrape his skin in response, and he takes a sharp breath that morphs it into a groan when he's bitten hard enough to bruise, but not to draw blood. The next moment, he's on his back, his shirt ripped apart unceremoniously so Scott can scent him thoroughly. He arches slightly; the moment may be too fragile to allow more, but the slowness of it all—nosing and licking and lips not quite kissing but just ghosting all over him—causes him physical pain. He has been desperate for his Alpha to claim him for way too long, and it seems he cannot survive one more minute of waiting.

“Please,” Isaac whimpers meekly. The idea of Scott just fucking him into oblivion is thrilling and disturbing at the same time. “Please, Scott, I _need_ ,” and vague as it may be, it isn't a lie, after all.

“I know. I will.” A husky whisper against Isaac's side, followed by a lick and a sharp bite that makes the Beta writhe.

Although Scott keeps ignoring Isaac's pleas, keeps nuzzling and scenting instead of doing _something, whatever, just make me feel better,_ it's still okay. As if this is exactly how it's supposed to be, Isaac's wolf is deeply content.

When those ridiculous jeans of his finally disappear a lifetime later, the quick brush of fingertips along the length of his cock is almost enough to make Isaac scream; he's harder than he could ever imagine being, and he's on edge. He's ready.

“Please,” he says for the umpteenth time, spreading his legs wide. “Fuck me. Claim me. I need you to,” and then Scott twirls his tongue over the tip of his cock, literally lapping up the pre-cum, and that's pretty much all Isaac needs for his world to shatter in the best of ways.

It's only fuel to the flames.

Scott smirks at him, eyes flashing red. Dipping his index finger into the cum that pooled on Isaac's belly, he asks, “You think this makes for good lube?”

“Sweet Jesus. I don't care. Just fuck me already.”

Scott growls, and Isaac wants to growl right back at him, but the cum-covered finger now presses against his asshole (meh to the lube quality), and his wolf howls. Not because it hurts or feels strange or suddenly embarrasses him, though all of this applies. But no, Isaac's howl is filled with a fierce yearning, instinctive, ultimate. As if his whole existence came down to this, to being a catalyst for desire.

“Scott, please,” he utters, throwing his head to the side and gritting his teeth. The finger keeps pushing, opening him, but there's a little too much friction. “Hurts,” he breathes out, then, firmly, “Hurt me more,” to which Scott's heartbeat falters.

Two pairs of eyes on the verge of wolf meet.

“No need to rush,” Scott says, but Isaac whines, and it's a heart-wrenchingly sad sound, purely lupine again, genuinely submissive. Scott answers it, withdrawing only to fumble his pants open. However much his hands seem insecure, his voice allows no protest when he demands: “Roll over.”

Isaac has barely time to follow the order, is grabbed by his hips the next moment, pulled up on all fours. Scott's cock is delightfully hard against the inside of his thigh, smearing— _marking_ him with pre-come. The scent alone makes Isaac's wolf euphoric, and he gives it a voice, can't help it. Anticipation washes over him, and he’s drowning in the waves, extinguishing every leftover human thought. Arching his back, Isaac rubs his ass against Scott, not begging anymore, but demanding what's his.

The grip turns to iron, claws tearing skin, and Isaac stills, holding his breath for the split second it takes Scott to bend over him and sink his teeth into his shoulder. This time, he draws blood, but it doesn't matter. It's good. It distracts Isaac from the cock stretching him.

He whimpers, and yet he pushes back, greedy. He _wants_. He _needs_. The lack of actual lube creates a friction that drives him crazy, makes him wolf out completely. Clawing the sheets, he waits for the pain to fade, but it doesn't; Scott starts moving, hard thrusts that set Isaac aflame, every single one of them bliss and agony at the same time. He's slipping away, but there's nothing he can do, nothing he wants to do to prevent it.

This is it. His only purpose, his ultimate destiny. The heat that consumed Isaac before descends into an inferno of so many sensations that no human could cope with the intensity, but his mind parses only naturalness.

Hardly aware of anything other than the stretch and the fill and the pounding, Isaac keeps growling and whimpering in turns, his voice mixing with Scott's. Where his hands fight to steady him, the sheets are in shreds, falling apart under the strain of claws just like he crumbles under his Alpha's warmth. In the tiny corner of his mind that's still a teenage boy, embarrassment flares up; any wolf close by will hear them. The whole pack will smell it, will know, will judge them. He squeezes his eyes shut, tries to sink back into the sweet oblivion of just _being_.

It takes only a few minutes until Scott's cock swells further inside him. Eyes crossing at the extra stimulation on his prostate, Isaac buries his face into the pillow, stifling yet another howl of delight. His anal sphincter tightens, keeping the knot safe inside him, and with the freedom to move limited, the smooth thrusts turn into jerks.

It should be frightening, or weird at the very least, and had it happened under different circumstances, Isaac would have freaked out for sure. As it is, though, with the mating hormone cocktail pumping through his nervous system, all he does is utter a string of guttural sounds that die in a moan when Scott pins him down with his full weight. Isaac reaches for him. Their fingers twine, and a mere heartbeat later, the Alpha bites his orgasm into his Beta's neck.

Isaac doesn't notice his own tears, couldn't tell what made him cry. He's oblivious to anything but the flames dying down into embers, centering to where they're tied together. The pressure on his prostate is steady, mind-twistingly good. He doesn't come again, but there's no need; Isaac's blissful.

They lie knotted together for a while, spooning, slowly drifting back to a more conscious state of mind. Scott's breath is a hot tickle on Isaac's skin. He holds him tight, nuzzling the back of his head, licking and nipping playfully at his neck and shoulder.

Isaac doesn't want them to part. The more his wolf calms, the more he's afraid.

When Scott slips out of him what seems an eternity later, Isaac sighs softly.

“You okay?” Scott asks, ghosting his fingertips, now that Isaac released his hand as well, down his side.

“Yeah,” Isaac breathes. Slowly, reluctantly, he turns to face him. The Oh No We Didn't conversation is probably unavoidable, so they better get over with it right away. “You?” He hazards a glance, relieved to see Scott grinning.

“Bitch in heat, huh?”

Isaac blushes, but he chuckles nonetheless. “Well. Did you really have to make me say that?”

“That was hot.”

“Not a valid reason.”

“You were hard to resist,” Scott admits with a sheepish grin. A soft shade of pink blossoms on his cheeks. “I didn't think I could, you know . . . help you there. Didn't think you'd want me to. Of all people. So I ignored it when all I wanted was . . . Well, you were fucking sexy. Are. You are.”

Isaac's mind provides about a dozen things he could say, most of them stupid or silly or sassy. His fingers twitch with a vague impulse that dies as quickly as it came about. His remaining silence catapults them straight to the edge of heavy awkwardness.

Scott saves them from falling. Or he attempts to, anyway. Turning away slightly, he asks, “So . . . we're totally good, right? Going back to normal and all?”

“Sure,” Isaac sighs. “Yeah, I would like that.”

“Good. It's not that . . . well, you know. Like I said. But that doesn't mean—”

“It's okay. We're still friends.”

Nodding, Scott meets Isaac's eyes. “I don't wanna lose that,” he says seriously. “I don't want this wolf shit to ruin my whole life. Or yours.”

“It won't,” Isaac replies firmly, but then a strange thought flashes through his mind, curling his lips into one of his trademark smirks.

“Unless you knocked me up, of course.”

He doesn't bother to dodge the pillow Scott throws at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the **Rounds of Kink** Halloween Mini Round 2013.
> 
> Prompt: tenacity  
> Kinks: Animalistic behaviors and characteristics, Loss of control, Biological Imperative
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful **Moit** , who also made sure that all characters were returned unharmed.
> 
> [Feedback is love.]


End file.
